Absence Is To Love
by anotherweasley
Summary: The fic is complete! Chapter 10 is up! Keywords John/Monica.
1. First

Absence Is To Love  
By: Olivia  
  
John's heart was racing. He had never driven on the streets of D.C. this fast before. But every second counted. Every second brought him closer to the situation. Every second gave him an extra moment where he might be able to make a difference. He prayed with every fiber of his soul that he wasn't too late.  
  
He hadn't believed Skinner when he had called him with the news. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. Why was this happening? Why hadn't he seen this coming? What could he have done differently? Why? It made no sense to him. But that didn't make a damn bit of difference. It was happening. And that was all that mattered right now.  
  
Finally, finally, he reached the Bureau. He pulled up in his SUV and jumped out his badge in his hand flashing it as a D.C. cop held up the yellow tape to let him through. The cop pushed back the gathering crowd that had come to watch the horror unfold. John mentally cursed them, but he didn't have time to dwell on them.  
  
John glanced up once at the rooftop to see the figure standing so dangerously close to the edge. He picked up his pace even more, moving faster than he was already going. His mind didn't even registered the sound of the paramedics and fire fighters preparing for the worst below, trying in some vain attempt to stop this from happening. John raced into the building and got into the elevator going up to the roof, a direction John was unaccustomed to going in.  
  
After what seemed like eternity, he reached the top. He ran to the roof top door and burst through it. His gaze immediately focused on her as soon as he saw her standing there precariously on the edge, her back to the sky.  
  
John started to run towards her as Scully's and Skinner's hands grabbed him, holding him back from her. He could hear them talking, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. John's attention, his energy, was solely focused on Monica standing there on the ledge.  
  
The FBI negotiator/counselor was talking to her, trying to convince here to come down off the ledge, that whatever had driven her to this point wasn't that bad. The negotiator was close to Monica, but not close enough to grab her if she decided to fall backwards.  
  
Monica was mumbling something to herself. Her gaze was unfixed until John had entered the scene. Now she fixed her gaze upon him. Their eyes locked. He saw a sadness there so deep it made his heart break standing there, so close yet so far away from her. He hadn't seen a sadness there that deep since they had found his son dead all those years ago.  
  
John finally threw off Scully's and Skinner's grasp never taking his eyes off Monica. "I have to talk to her!"  
  
John slowly walked to the negotiator. When John reached him, John said quietly, "I need to talk to her. She'll talk to me."  
  
The negotiator nodded and backed away a few feet, letting John take over. "Okay, but just be careful."  
  
After the negotiator had moved away, John began talking. "Monica," he said gently.  
  
A tear fell down Monica's face. "I didn't want you to see this."  
  
"Hey, it's okay, Monica," John's voice was becoming thick with emotion. He needed to save her. He needed to find the words, the words to save her. "Why don't ya...why don't ya come down from there and we can talk about it? There's nothing that bad we can't talk about, that we can't fix."  
  
More tears started to spill down Monica's face. "I need help, John."  
  
"I know. I know," said John desperately. If only the words, the words to save her would come to him. "I'm here now. I can help you, Monica. Whatever it is, I can help you."  
  
"I love you, John." And with that Monica pushed herself backwards and fell off the roof.   
  
"Nooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" yelled John as he rushed forward and tried to grab her. He missed.  
  
End Chapter 1 


	2. Second

Absence Is To Love 2  
By: Olivia  
  
"Noooooooooooooo! Monica, noooooooooooo!" John was screaming as he sat up in bed, sweat drenching him. His heart was racing. He tried to get his breathing back under control.   
  
John looked around him in the darkness. He was in his bed. It was a damn dream. Nothing more than a dream. It had all felt so real though. His heart wept at the thought of that hell ever being a reality.  
  
John instinctively reached for his portable phone. He pressed the numbers that had become so familiar to him except for the last digit. What the hell was he thinking? It was just a dream. No reason to wake Monica up in the middle of the night. He would see her tomorrow morning at work. No reason to bother her now or frighten her. She'd think his dream silly or worse, think it some kind of sign.  
  
But John cast his mind to the dream and hit the last digit. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep unless her knew that she was okay.   
  
It seemed like eternity that the phone rang and then, "Hello, you have reached....."  
  
John angrily hit the off button on his phone and threw it on his bed. Damn, answering machine.  
  
He threw off his sheets and got out of bed. He found a pair of jeans amidst the darkness and began to get dressed. He had to see her.  
  
A few minutes later found John in his car headed to Monica's apartment. When he got there he raced into her building to her apartment door.  
  
"Monica." John called at her door. He knocked and the door swung open slowly, errily. Something wasn't right. John drew his weapon.  
  
John pushed the door back and entered Monica's apartment slowly. He let his eyes become accustomed to the darkness. He slowly moved through her apartment, the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, and finally the bedroom. No sign of Monica. No sign of anyone for that matter. Frustrated, John went back to the living room. He found a lamp and turned it on. Before him lay uttered destruction. There had been a struggle. John felt something squishing beneath his feet. It could only mean one thing he thought fighting a wave of sickness. John looked down. The carpet next to the coffee coffee table was soaked in blood.  
  
John's heart was not beating as he instinctively reached for his cell and began dialing 9-1-1. 


	3. Third

Absence Is To Love  
By: Olivia  
  
A few hours later found CSU investigators searching for clues, invading Monica's apartment.  
  
John could only glare at them. He wanted to yell at them to leave her stuff alone, to stop invading her privacy. It was all so impersonal. Even after all his years on the force, in the Marines, in the FBI, after all his share of invading people's privacy, he still couldn't stand this. The only thing holding him back down from going off was that he needed these people. He needed them to give him some clue, some lead, some starting point with which to start looking for Monica.  
  
The door had been open when John had arrived, but it had not been forced open or damaged in any way. There was no other obvious entry point which led John to believe that Monica might have known her attacker. Besides co-workers at Bureau headquarters, who for the most part avoided the two of them and their office like the plague, John couldn't think of anyone that Monica knew in the City. He was angry at himself for not knowing if she had friends here outside of work or not. But then he reasoned it could have been any one she might have ran into during her daily routine. Someone at say the grocery store or the laundry mat.  
  
Interviewing the neighbors for clues had proved useless and frustrating. After years as a in the NYPD and FBI he knew the creed well even before he had read about it in David Simon's book about Baltimore's Homicide Detectives. Everybody lies. Witnesses lie because they don't want to get involved. John hadn't expected help from them, but still he had hoped that someone had seen or heard something and that he or she would come forward. There had been a struggle; there had been a shot fired. The apartment walls just were not that thick. Somebody had to have witnessed something.  
  
A hand on his shoulder interrupted John's thoughts. He looked up to see his own fear and concern mirrored in Skinner's face. "I just got of the phone with one of the labs," he said. "This is their top priority. Turns out the blood's not Monica's."  
  
"Excuse me?" John was confused. The blood had to be Monica's.  
  
"Like I said, the blood didn't come from, Monica."  
  
John felt his heart rise a little. "Then maybe she's okay. Maybe it's the killer's blood. The bastard may have just kidnapped her."  
  
Skinner nodded. His thoughts exactly.  
  
"Whatever happened," said John with a tinge of pride, "Monica didn't go down without a fight."  
  
Skinner said, "The shell casing we found, came from Monica's gun. Right now it looks like she shot her attacker. We also found this note." Skinner held up a piece of white paper in an evidence bag.  
  
John reached for it. He turned the bag over to see what was written. He read aloud, "The Fox may have left but the hunt still continues.'" John looked at Skinner for an explanation. "Who is this?! What does it mean?! Obviously Fox would be Mulder but what does the rest of it mean?!" John was frustrated, angry. He felt like he was playing catch-up with this job and he was nine years behind. And here some psycho from some past X-File had kidnapped his partner.  
  
Skinner took a deep breath. "I think I know who it might be." 


	4. Fourth

Absence Is To Love  
By: Olivia  
  
Doggett stared at the stack of open X-Files in front of him on his desk. He had tried to go through the list of names Skinner had give him of anyone who might have had a grudge against the X-Files office, in particular Mulder and Scully, and who had teased them with notes or games of some kind. Surprisingly, once you took out all the government agencies that had something against the X-Files, the list was not that long. With secret covert government agencies off the list of possible suspects, it left only the truly bizarre element. Bunch of freaks and geeks, John thought unamused. And one of them might have Monica.  
  
John sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was frustrated. There had to be an lead, someplace to start from.  
  
He cast his mind back to his dream. If Monica had been here she would have called it a premonition, a warning, a vision. Perhaps some kind of psychic connection. But John had no use for these terms. The fact was that his partner was gone-dream or no dream. Dreaming wasn't going to bring Monica back to him.   
  
John looked up over at Monica's empty desk. What he wouldn't give to have her back again. For the first time since this nightmare had become a reality, John stopped to ponder what if would be like if Monica was truly gone from his life forever, just as his son was. He quickly, angrily, pushed the thought out of his head. And yet he couldn't stop feeling how truly alone he felt, empty. More alone and empty than he had felt when Scully left this office on maternity leave never to truly return. She was off with Mulder now, somewhere. He could use her and Mulder's guidance right now.  
  
And with the loneliness came the feeling of helplessness. He wanted to be doing something, anything, to get Monica back. But there was no place to start from. He felt powerless to help Monica, to find her, to save her. He felt just as helpless when Luke had been abducted. At least back then, he had had Monica to help him through that. Now...  
  
The phone rang, jarring John out of his thoughts. He quickly grabbed it. "X-Files. John Doggett."  
  
It was Skinner. "We found who the blood belongs to in Monica's apartment." 


	5. Fifth

Absence Is To Love  
By: Olivia  
  
John walked down the hospital corridor impatiently with two old X-Files stuffed underneath his arm. He actually might have left them in his, and Monica's he added, office having already memorized them after Skinner's call. But he brought them along just in case he needed to reference something.  
  
He rounded the corner and walked down the psychiatric ward unit where he saw Skinner and a bunch of officers and FBI agents outside the room controlling the crime scene.  
  
John just gave Skinner a glance before entering the hospital prison room and found it exactly as Skinner had described. A male hospital nurse, who to the untrained eye looked to be merely asleep, laid in the bed oblivious to the lab techs and crime scene unit team surrounding him collecting evidence. The M.E. pulled back the bed covers to reveal multiple and vicious stab wounds. It was then that John noticed the bloody shank resting just underneath the bed.  
  
John had seen all he needed to. He walked back out into the hallway. Skinner and he stepped a little to the side, away from the crowd. "You wanna explain to me how a petite blonde woman killed the nurse and then walks outta here, past security, like nothin' happened."  
  
Skinner just looked at John. He needed him to believe. That was the only way to get Monica back alive. "I'm assuming you read the files I told you to. It's all in there. You know exactly how she did it."  
  
John just shook his head, still unconvinced. "People just can't physically "push" their will onto others. They can't make a person do what they don't wanna do unless they got a gun or some kind of weapon to threaten them with. What you're suggestin'..."  
  
"What I'm suggesting, Agent Doggett, I've seen for myself."  
  
"Okay," amended John realizing that he was really wound tight about all this, but the stakes here were great. "I just don't see how people can bend other people's minds. This Linda Bowman, yeah I agree with you that she escaped. I'll agree that the time of her escape, with the help of this guard Brinkly, gives her ample time to get over to Monica's and kidnap her. I most certainly agree that she had a definite grudge against Mulder and Scully. She blamed them for her brother's problems and death, although as far as I can tell, she was the one that actually pulled the plug. Her blood is in Monica's apartment so Monica must have gotten off a shot before they got her. They must've knocked her out or somethin'. Bowan's got motive and means, but don't go askin' me to believe that she can "push" her will onto others."  
  
"They were keeping her on drugs in order to prevent her from using her mental powers. They found a week's worth of her medication hidden in the room. This woman is dangerous, Agent Doggett."  
  
"Of that I have no doubt. We just have to find out where they've taken Monica."  
  
Skinner held up a VCR tape. "I might be able to help you with that. This was just handcarried to me."  
  
"What is it?" asked John anxiously.  
  
"Surveillance tape of Monica's apartment."  
  
"We check that though. Her apartment doesn't have outdoor surveillance cameras."  
  
"But the one across the street does. It shows an unconscious Monica being put into the back of a black Econoline van by Bowan and Brinkly. I've already put out an APB for the van. It's only a matter of time."  
  
John nodded as he took the tape. He mentally swore Linda Bowan was going to wish she never left the mental institution. 


	6. Sixth

Absence Is To Love 6  
By: Olivia  
  
John hit the rewind button and watched the scene unfold again. His thumb was numb from pressing the rewind button, but he hardly noticed. All he could do was watch as Linda Bowman and Robert Brinkly loaded an unconscious Monica into the back of their van. The image was blurry, dark, but the figures, the action, was definitely distinguishable.  
  
John searched every inch of his copy for a clue, any clue, that could help. But the truth was that everything that could be done was being done. They had gotten the licence plate number off the van. It belonged to Brinkly. There was an APB out for the van, for Bowman and Brinkly. John had to wait. He had to let people do their jobs. But he hated waiting.   
  
He prayed to God that this image of Monica was not the last he would see of her alive. She must be alive. Why else would they kidnap her except to torment him? They needed Monica alive to exact Bowman's revenge. If they had wanted to kill her, they would have done so at the apartment and left her body behind. They wouldn't have bothered trying to escape with her.  
  
His heart skipped a beat when his cell phone started ringing. He was filled with hope and fear at the same time.  
  
"John Doggett," he said trying his best to keep his voice neutral, free of emotion.  
  
Again it was Skinner with news. "We have Brinkly in custody down at the fifth MPD precient."  
  
"I'm on my way." John grabbed his coat and hurried to the door. It was time for some answers. 


	7. Seventh

Absence Is To Love 7  
By: Olivia  
  
John strode into the interrogation room and closed the door behind him.  
  
Brinkly, who had been sleeping with his head on the table, woke up at the sound of Doggett's entrance. Brinkly gave John the ceremonial eye screw reserved especially for law enforcement officers, and leaned back a little in his metal chair. He could only lean so far as his right wrist was handcuffed to the table. With his free left hand, he pushed a lock of coal black hair out of his eyes.  
  
Doggett sat down opposite from Brinkly. He kept his face netural, unreadable. He wasn't about to let this man get under his skin. He had already seen in Brinkly's eyes that moment of recognition. Brinkly knew exactly who John was.   
  
As the lead investigator in Monica's kidnapping, John was allowed to interview Brinkly by himself. Brinkly had been read his rights and had neither refused his right to remain silent, nor had he asked to see a lawyer so John went in.   
  
John knew they were being watched by Skinner and other officers behind the two way mirror. Since the beginning John had had to watch his step so that he wouldn't be deemed too emotionally involved in the case and be taken off of it. But he was emotionally involved. Very emotionally involved. And he needed answers.  
  
It was then that he noticed that Brinkly's arm was bandaged. John had found out when he arrived that Brinkly was a first cousin of Bowman's. The blood in Monica's apartment must have been his. As close relatives, their blood was similar. It was one sick, twisted family, John thought.   
  
"Pretty stupid goin' to the hospital to get that bullet taken out of yer arm."  
  
Brinkly looked at his arm and shrugged, saying nothing.  
  
John tried to bait him again. "My partner's a good shot. I'm surprised she didn't kill ya."  
  
Brinkly opened his mouth to say something and then stopped himself. He thought for a moment and then said with a sneer, "Yeah, your partner, Special Agent Monica Julietta Reyes. Oh yeah, she's special all right. Such a sweet looking thang."  
  
John exploded. His lack of sleep and emotional duress had finally caught up with him. The emotional floodgate that John had kept back so long burst forth. As he bolted up, his chair went skidding across the room. John flew around the table and with his left hand knocked Brinkly's head against the table jarring his teeth. With his right, he pulled out his gun pressing the cold metal to Brinkly's head. "I wanna know where she is damnit!" he screamed at Brinkly.  
  
By this time Skinner and other FBI and MPD officers were pulling John off of Brinkly. Skinner managed to get John's gun safely out of his hands. But John was still screaming as they dragged him out of the interrogation room. "I wanna know where she is you son of a bitch. If you've done anything to her, anything...." But Brinkly couldn't hear any more as the officers had finally gotten John out of the room and closed the door. 


	8. Eighth

Absence Is To Love 8  
By: Olivia  
  
John, back at his house, was fuming. He angrily paced back and forth. He would have admitted that he was angry at himself for losing his control back there in the interrogation room if he wasn't fueled with anger at Skinner for taking him off this case.  
  
Sure Skinner had officers and agents to handle the case. Sure he hadn't gotten any sleep since Monica had been kidnapped. Sure he was emotionally involved. But that was the point wasn't it? He could still be objective couldn't he? This case needed passion. There was, he hoped, a living breathing woman out there who needed help. But to the others except Skinner, that's all it was, just another case, another person. To John, it was his partner, his friend, his....   
  
They didn't know the person behind the FBI photo. John did, or at least he had been finding out. John pulled the FBI photo out of his pocket, the one that had been circulating around, the one he had kept in his pocket ever since Monica disappeared. He gazed at it. She was smiling slightly in the picture. But it wasn't her real smile, the kind he saw when she was truly happy, the smile that he found she had when she looked at him sometimes. The smile that lit up her eyes.  
  
John plopped down at the sofa, still staring at the photo. He admitted that he was angry at himself for getting kicked off the case when Monica needed him. He was angry at asking Monica to join him on the X-Files. He had put her in danger. He had been selfish. It was ridiculous for him to think that way he knew. Their jobs were dangerous, X-Files or no. Hell, life was dangerous. There were no guarantees. And yet he could not stop himself from feeling guilty. Partners were supposed to watch each other's backs and he had been doing a real bang up job so far. He felt himself filled with sorrow at the thought of what Monica must be going through or feeling right now.  
  
He thought of Monica's feelings for him. He knew that she loved him. At first he hadn't been sure. There had been little hints he and there when he had suspected that she might, but he had always dismissed it. They were so different, such opposites, that he didn't really believe that she would ever, could ever view him as more than a friend. But she did. That inner voice inside of him had told him as much that night in the car.  
  
And his feelings for her? His feelings toward her had been so jumbled, so mixed, so confusing. He had always deeply respected her and cared about her, even when they disagreed strongly about a case. From the moment John had first met her, when his son had disappeared, he knew that she would do everything in her power to find his son, which she did. In Monica's effort, he had not been disappointed. Out of that tragedy a friendship had been born. It was a friendship that time and space had made to burn a little less brightly over the years, but burned it still did. Monica joining him on the X-Files had cemented their friendship as shared tragedy and danger often does to people.  
  
But love? He thought of the women he had loved throughout his life. Barbara had been his high school sweetheart. They had married young. She hadn't liked being the wife of a marine, a cop, a detective and all the baggage that had gone along with it. They stayed together for their son, for Luke, whom they both adored. And when he was gone, there was nothing left to hold them together. They still spoke occasionally. He still cared about her. Certainly not love, but he cared. But that was the way he was. Once you were his friend, you were his friend.  
  
And then he had been assigned to the X-Files and was partnered with Dana. He knew from the first that her heart would never, could never, beat for him. She loved Mulder. Always had and always would. If Mulder hadn't been returned, maybe one day she would have allowed herself to love another, but she would have always compared her new love to him. And John knew whoever that was, he would never measure up.  
  
And yet despite all this, John grew to care about her. He could see himself in her-a parent desparate to protect her child, a person longing for a missing loved one. These things he could understand, because he too had been in her shoes once. And Dana was different than Barbara in that she too was on the job. She understood the job, she loved the job, in a way Barbara could never understand or appreciate. John and Dana were alike in that they were skeptics in a unit that called for the open mindedness to possibilities beyond the realm of science. For this and for so many other reasons, he had fallen for Dana. And yet he would never intrude on her love for Mulder. He respected her, and yes he even respected Mulder, too much. There was safety in this unrequited love.  
  
Then Monica had come back into his life full time to be his partner after Dana left. Yes they were opposites, yes they didn't really see eye to eye on their cases as skeptic and believer. And yet somehow they complemented each other. Somehow they wouldn't be able to do this job without each other. Monica had always been there for him-helping him, watching his back, loyal to him like no other. And yet she never hesitated to let him know her opinion. She was strong, independent, open minded, compassionate, and yes beautiful. Even after all the years of seeing the worst humanity had to offer, she still somehow kept her sunny disposition, her optimism, intact. She kept the ugliness, the darkness, that surrounded them at bay, from seeping into her heart. She would purse justice, purse the truth, no matter what the personal cost to herself. It was as his partner that John got to see this everyday. His admiration, his respect, his friendship towards her had grown into love.  
  
Love. There he had thought it. He loved Monica. Of course he had known it for awhile. He had kept her at a distance. He had thought that she could do better than him and he hadn't allowed himself to be happy, to truly be happy, until they had found Luke's killer a couple of months ago. Since then, he had allowed her in more, a little at a time. They had spent more time together outside of work and yet he still hadn't told her that he loved her. She knew. She had to know didn't she? Still....  
  
A phone was ringing which interrupted John's thoughts. At first he thought is was his home phone but after a few minutes he realized it was his cell. "John Doggett."  
  
"Hello, Agent Doggett," said an unfamiliar female voice.  
  
"Linda Bowman is that you?" demanded John angrily.  
  
"Very good," said Linda smugly. "You really are an ACE detective aren't you."  
  
"I wanna speak with Monica!"  
  
"Yes, and I'm sure she'd love to speak with you too, but I'm afraid she's quite tied up right now. If you want to see your partner again I suggest that you meet me at the abandoned warehouse in the District on the corner of K and 20th. You should come alone."  
  
"We've got yer cousin. We've got Robert. Monica better be alive or else....."  
  
"Robert knew the risk of going to the hospital. You've got thirty minutes, Agent Doggett. The clock is ticking."  
  
"How do I know you haven't hurt her?!"  
  
"You don't. But you'd better hurry or else I just might." Bowman had ended the call. 


	9. Ninth

Absence Is To Love 9  
By: Olivia  
  
"Oh, God, no!" whispered John as he drove up to the abandoned warehouse Bowman had told him to meet. He could see the lone figure of Monica standing on the edge of the roof. Her back was toward him so he couldn't see her face. His nightmare had become a reality, but he had no time to ponder on this.  
  
John quickly parked and exited the vehicle. He raced into the building and ran up the 20 floors until he finally came to the roof door. His breath was ragged, his heart was pounding, as he pulled his gun and flipped off the safety. He kicked the door open and ran through.  
  
He was temporarily blinded by the sunlight, but when his eyes regained their focus they locked with Monica standing there on the ledge. She looked calm for the most part, but her eyes, her eyes spoke to him. He could see fear there.  
  
He swung around and could see no trace of Linda Bowman. Cautiously, ever wary of Bowman sneaking up on him, John started walking slowly toward Monica.   
  
"Monica," he said gently. He kept his gun in his right hand and put out his left toward Monica. "C'mon, Monica take my hand and we'll get outta here. Everything's gonna be fine. Do you know where Bowman is?"  
  
Monica shook her head. John could hear fear in her voice. "She's here somewhere John. I don't know where. Please don't come any closer. You have to stop her. She's making me do this." Monica took a small step back toward the sky.  
  
"No! No, Monica," shouted John. He stopped walking towards her and spun around with his gun looking for Bowman. He couldn't believe that this woman Bowman had any kind of control over Monica but either Bowman had brainwashed Monica or Skinner and those X-Files did indeed tell the truth. "Linda Bowman! Show yourself!" It was the only way. John was afraid he was too far away to catch Monica if she fell.  
  
Linda Bowman came around the corner, her gun at her side. John trained his weapon on her. "Linda Bowman, put down your weapon!"  
  
"I'm not going to shoot you, John," said Linda.  
  
John felt his anger rising even further at Bowman using his first name. "Put down your weapon," he shouted at her. He kept his gun trained on Bowman and stretched his left hand toward Monica. "C'mon Monica. Take my hand. Get off the ledge."  
  
"I can't, John," said Monica as a tear streaked down her face. "She's making me do this. Please, John. You're going to have to shoot her."  
  
John could feel the sweat running down his face and into his eyes but he couldn't wipe them. His palms were sweaty too so it probably wouldn't have done any good.  
  
A breeze chose that moment to pass which caused Monica to sway slightly on the ledge.  
  
John's finger was inches away from pulling the trigger and yet he hesitated. All his years and training as a cop and as a soldier urged him not to shoot a perp with her weapon not pointed at any target. But Monica needed his help. And he would do anything for her.  
"Linda Bowman. I will not tell you again. Put down your weapons or I will shoot!"  
  
Bowman didn't move. Her gun still pointed downward at the ground. She looked at Monica and then she looked at John. "John, it's me Monica. I won't shoot you. You've got to believe me. That's Linda Bowman on the ledge. She's pushing you. She's making you think I'm her."  
  
"Shut up! Shut up!" John yelled at Linda. His fear reached a new level. He had read about the similar showdown between Mulder, Scully, and Bowman. Could Linda Bowman be on that ledge trying to get him to shoot the real Monica? Or was Linda Bowman really Linda Bowman? Bowman probably figured he had read the report. Was she just messing with his mind, distracting him while she forced the real Monica to jump off the ledge only to have him watch helplessly as his partner fell from the sky? Maybe Monica's will was as strong as Linda's? Maybe she was fighting her and so Linda was distracting him until she could push Monica off the roof?  
  
All these thoughts and theories ran through John's mind in a matter of seconds. He couldn't even trust his eyes here and that frightened him to his inner core. That and the fact that every second here was precious. The decision he made here would effect both Monica's and his life forever. But in the end, all this thinking was for nothing. The decision was made for him.  
  
Linda Bowman raised her gun and fired at Monica.  
  
"Nooooooo!!!!!!" screamed John.   
  
He watched helplessly as the shot hit Monica in the shoulder.  
  
John rushed forward. But he was powerless, unable to stop Monica from falling, just as he had in his dream. He was too late. The force of the impact was all it too to knock Monica off her balance. He watched helplessly as Monica stumbled backward, and being unable to catch herself from falling, she plummeted off the building.  
  
Her screamed echoed in his ears, even after it had really died away. He put his hands on the ledge and crouched down on his haunches, unable to look over the ledge to see what remained of his partner. His head rolled forward in defeat. All he could think of was how empty he was, how he had failed Monica.  
  
John felt a hand on his shoulder and the anger exploded. He spun around knocking Linda Bowman to the ground on her back. Instinctively, he pressed his gun to her forehead yelling, "I'm going to kill you!"  
  
But the words died on his lips when he realized that the terrified eyes he was staring into were not Linda Bowman's but Monica Reyes'. 


	10. Tenth

Absence Is To Love  
By: Olivia  
  
John watched through the window of the hospital room door as a doctor checked Monica out. She was bruised and battered. Her spirit didn't seem broken, but in the past 24 hours, John's sight, his perception of reality, was the last thing he trusted.  
  
The doctor finished putting the last bandage on Monica's wrist. Monica nodded at the words he spoke to her that John was unable to hear. The doctor exited the room. He saw John and, recognizing him at the most concerned party of the group that had brought Monica into the hospital, walked across the hall to him.  
  
"How is she, Doc?" John asked. His voice only slightly betrayed his inner anxiety, his inner turmoil.  
  
"She's fine, nothing too serious. Mostly slight cuts and bruises. The worst is the rope burn on her wrists and ankles from where they tied her up and from her escape effort. Mentally, I'd say she's doing better than I would be in her case."  
  
John could only nod, relieved at his words. "Thank you," was all he could get out, but the doctor understood all that John really felt in those two simple words. The doctor nodded and left John alone, standing in the hallway.  
  
John only hesitated for a second before entering Monica's room. At his entrance, Monica's face lit up. John took in Monica's cuts, bruises, and bandages. John quite frankly could say his partner had definitely seen better days, but to John she was a beautiful sight.  
  
After a few seconds of silence, Monica attempted a smile and a bit of gallows humor. "If you think I look bad, you should see the other woman..."  
  
John was not amused at a joke that he was fond of using whenever he himself had taken a beat down. John's attention focused on a particular red welt on Monica's forehead. He stretched out his hand and lightly touched it with his fingers.  
  
Monica winced ever so slightly even though his touch was gentle. The significance wasn't lost on her. It was the welt that John had caused when he had rammed the muzzle of his gun into her forehead when he had nearly shot her.  
  
Monica raised her hand to John's, pulling it tenderly away from her forehead. She put her hand into his. Still holding her hand, John wearily sat down beside her on the hospital bed.  
  
"You can't blame yourself, you know," said Monica quietly, sensing John's guilt. "The game was rigged from the beginning. Bowman had this all planned. She couldn't get back at Mulder and Scully, so she decided to take out her vengeance on us. She escaped from the institution, kidnapped me with the help of her cousin-a guard there, led you to the warehouse, and left me in an escapable position with access to a gun. She planned it all. Either way she wasn't going back to the institution, to jail. You can't blame yourself John because if you do, she wins. She didn't win, John. When she pulled that gun on you, I shot her. She's dead. She's not coming back."  
  
John just looked at Monica incredulously. "Monica, I nearly killed you today," said John in a broken, defeated voice. "Instead to savin' you, I nearly got both of us killed. All because I couldn't believe, because I couldn't look past what I saw with my eyes, I nearly killed you. It was the same thing with Mulder, she knew that we could never forgive ourselves if we...if I...."  
  
Monica squeezed his hand. She wanted to assuage his guilt, to make him feel better. She didn't blame him. John had a tendency to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and this was one burden she was trying to prevent him from carrying. "But you didn't, John. I'm fine."  
  
John just shook his head. "I'm not the right person for this job. We both know it. I was a fool to think otherwise. I thought I could do this job, but I can't. You need another partner who can better watch your back. Someone who's more open-minded than me."  
  
It was Monica's turn to shake her head. She didn't like where this conversation was headed. "You are my partner. I don't want or need another one. We are the only two people who can do this job. Together we make it work, just like today. The office needs a skeptic and a believer. I can't do this job without you."  
  
John couldn't help but smile at Monica's passionate speech. It was just like her to be placed in mortal danger and then afterwards try to make him feel better.   
  
John didn't say anything for a few moments. Slowly his smiled faded as the realization of all that had been potentially lost to him overwhelmed him. "I don't know if you'll ever realize...those days you were gone...it was just like when Luke had disappeared...."  
  
"No, I understand. It was like that time you were lost in Mexico. At one point the police were going to show me this dead body. I thought it might have been you."  
  
John let go of Monica's hand and slipped his arms around her waist pulling her into a hug. Monica wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling John even closer to her. She stroked the back of his neck with on of her hands.  
  
John finally spoke, his voice full of gratitude and awe. "Even when Kersh took all your resources away, told you to give up, you didn't stop lookin' for me."  
  
"I couldn't, just as you couldn't stop searching for me. Our strength lies in each other."  
  
John slowly released Monica from their embrace. As he did he placed a kiss on her forehead, just above the welt that he had caused. He looked deep into her eyes. "You know...you know how much...I don't think I ever told you how much...." How was it that Monica always made him so breathless, so tongue-tied?  
  
"I know," said Monica giving him a smile that lit up her eyes. "Me too."  
  
John nodded and a smile grew on his face that mirrored Monica's. He got up and extended his hand to her. He wasn't going to let Linda Bowman win. He wasn't going to let her tear apart his relationship with Monica. "C'mon let's get you outta here."  
  
"Okay, partner," said Monica as she gladly took his hand as he helped her up.  
  
John let out his arm and Monica linked her arm to his. It was still a little difficult for her to walk. "Why don't I get you a wheelchair or somethin'?"  
  
Monica shook her head. "I walked into this hospital with you and that's the way I'm leaving."  
  
John put his free hand over top of Monica's that rested on his arm and the two walked out of the hospital. They were once again whole.  
  
The End  
  
"Beneath the rule of men entirely great the pen is mightier than the sword. Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it enkindles the great."-Roger Bussy-Rabutin-"Maximes d'Amour"  
  
"My love's more ponderous than my tongue."-Shakespeare-"King Lear"  
  
"Today I being to understand what love must be...when we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence."-Edmond Louis Antoine Huot De Goncourt-"The Goncourt Journals" 


End file.
